


like bad glue on a get-well card

by Monsieur_Grenouille



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24484414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monsieur_Grenouille/pseuds/Monsieur_Grenouille
Summary: The human brain can never forget any face, quote, or event. Even if it’s someone you saw in the street, your subconscious might bring her into a dream as a side character. Alzheimer’s patients are known to recall memories from when they were kids, often when they call their nieces or nephews by their sibling’s name. That’s why it doesn’t make sense for someone to try and forget the person who changed their whole life.
Relationships: Ryan Ross/Brendon Urie
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Treaple speaking. This is the first time I’ve ever been invited to a collaboration, but this has been pretty fun. The majority of the writing was done by marilynmasonfuckme, so just keep that in mind. I just did some basic editing :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM

Brendon had never known his father. He had gotten Brendon’s mother pregnant while they were still in high school, then moved to the other side of the country without so much as saying goodbye or paying any child support. Brendon’s mother had always taken good care of him, but even as a small child, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she resented him for being born.

Growing up, everyone told Brendon he looked exactly like his father. It bothered him at first, considering the fact that he hated the man, but after a few years, he decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he acted anything like his father. He would never leave a young girl and his unborn child all alone… right?

When Brendon was eighteen, he helped to start a band called Panic! At The Disco. It was fun, he loved the music, his bandmates Spencer and Jon were really cool, and most of all, he loved Robin. She was the lead guitarist, shy and pale with light brown hair and a soft heart. She was the most beautiful thing Brendon had ever seen, and more than anything, he wanted to be with her. And then, a few months after they put out the band’s second album.

“H-hey, Brendon.” Robin smiled, twirling a long light brown strand of hair. Brendon smiled back.

“Hey, Birdie. You look nervous, what’s wrong?”

She sighed. “I-I’m pregnant. I-it’s yours, and I wanna keep it.”, she breathed.

With that sentence, Brendon’s entire world came crashing down. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He didn’t know how to do it, or even where to start. Instinctively, he built up an emotional wall, just like how his own father had. “Leave,” he said in a voice that wasn’t his, one that was colder, harsher than his.

Her eyes went huge. “Wh-what?” she stuttered.

Brendon knew he had the chance to turn around and say that he’s sorry. He knew he could apologize for being so harsh and at least attempt at fatherhood, but his insecurity took over. “Leave my band,” he barked, “never talk to me again. I want nothing to do with it.”

Robin couldn’t believe what was happening. She knew that Brendon had suffered as a kid, and there was probably 15 years of damage using him to talk, but she wasn’t going to argue. Tears spilled down her face. “O-okay, Bunny. I love you. Have a good life.” She forced a smile, gathered her things, told Spencer and Jon what was happening, and left. Brendon could barely stop himself from shaking. He was becoming his father.

Panic! At The Disco went on without Robin, and somehow, so did Brendon. His insecurities and depression got at least ten times worse after she left. Not a day went by when he didn’t think about the girl he loved, and about the child he would never know. He wrote song after song about Robin, not that she ever listened to them.

Robin knew listening to music by the man who had ruined her life would just make it hurt even worse. Luna, their daughter, was ten now, and amazing. She looked just like Brendon, just as he looked like his absent father. Brendon, meanwhile, had built up this tough persona on the outside, but on the inside he was still the sensitive little kid he had always been. It was hard keeping it up at concerts and in interviews. Every single day, he had to put on the mask of _Sassy Brendon Boyd Urie: Superstar and Loner_ , when he really just wanted to stay at home and get drunk while listening to Frank Sinatra. He started (and stopped) smoking as a punishment to himself, and got tattoos because he wanted the pain. On his ankle, right on the spot where a sock would cover it, he had a tattoo of a bird with a rabbit. 

No matter how much time passed, he would never let himself forget how Robin used to be Birdy, and how he used to be Bunny. 

Pete knew that Robin wasn’t supposed to hear any of the new songs, but when he heard the track called “Impossible Year,” he just had to send it to her. Pete knew what it felt like, to pine after someone you could never have, and he didn’t want Brendon to suffer for as long as he had. Pete’s love was never to come back, but somehow he had a feeling Robin wasn’t gone from Brendon’s life forever, not quite yet.

Robin hadn’t heard from Pete Wentz in years, so she was surprised when she got an email from his personal address. It was a link to a song, with no subject or explanation. Putting on her old, half-broken headphones, Robin began to listen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM  
> \- marilynmansonfuckme

As soon as she heard the first verse, Robin knew Brendon was writing about her. It’s not like anyone else would need such a big apology, after all. She noticed his voice had gotten even more beautiful with the years, and he sounded genuinely sad. It was like an entire barrier crashing down, destroying the tough, leather, drugged and drunk mood in the rest of the album. Robin began to sob silently, laying back on her bed. Fuck. Did… did he really miss her enough to write a song about her?

Something like that had to be brought up in person. The next day after work, Robin opened up her bank account to see if she could afford to get two plane tickets to Los Angeles. It took a few weeks to get everything in line and for Robin to explain what was happening to her boss, but it eventually worked out.

“Luna, sweetheart, we’re going on vacation!”, Robin called to her daughter, forcing a happy tone.

Luna blinked. They had never gone on vacation before, not once. Money was tight and Robin’s job in HR didn’t exactly pay well, so the closest they’ve ever had was a camping trip to Minnesota. “Uh, where are we going?” asked Luna, “And why are you just bringing this up now?” 

“We’re going to LA to meet someone very special,” Robin told her. They left that afternoon. 

The whole plane ride, Luna stared out the window and thought. She’s heard the term “midlife crisis” before, but her mom never seemed like the type to have one. If anything, the crisis would be about listening to Queen instead of The Beatles. Not buying two plane tickets in the middle of the school year in order to go see someone who’s important enough to visit but not important enough for Robin to tell Luna about. At least Luna got the window seat. 

The two arrived in the LA airport, then got in a cab as soon as they could. Robin had her cross necklace in her hand, gripping it nervously. Luna was in the backseat, answering Gerard’s constant texts. Most of his texts consisted of this: “Where are you now? How’s Robin? Is she okay? Has she told you where you’re going? Have you been kidnapped?” 

Luna answered, “We’re in LA. Mom is fine. I don’t know where the hell we’re going. We have not been kidnapped. Please calm down. I’ll talk to you later.” Then she turned her phone off and listened to the NPR podcast from the radio until they arrived at a white house with pretty fancy bushes out front. “Is this the hotel?” Luna asked her mom once they were out of the cab.

Robin shook her head. “It’s just a house.”

“Whose house?”

“You’ll see.” 

Brendon’s house was an absolute mess. On the outside, it looked like a nice, expensive house, but junk littered the floor of every room, and absolutely nothing was organized. As Brendon saw it, he didn’t deserve anything nicer. He was a horrible person, an even worse father than his own. He was in the middle of another angry piano solo when there was a knock on the door. Brendon groaned, “I’ll be there in a minute!” 

Brendon stumbled out of his room and ran to the door, praying it wasn’t the press. He hadn’t slept or really eaten in days, much less showered and put on fresh clothes. If anyone was going to see him like this, it would lead to countless news stories. Or at least it would, if people didn’t automatically assume he had stayed up all night partying and getting drunk with his friends. Friends, which he apparently has thousands of. 

He opened the door to see something better than the press. A little girl, looking to be about ten, was the first thing he saw. She widened her eyes. Her big, chocolate brown eyes, framed by long eyelashes, on her pale face with full lips and dark brown shoulder-length hair. She was his kid. She had to be. Brendon began to tear up, opening and closing his mouth, but no words came out. Since the girl must have a mother of some kind, he looked up to see a tired-looking woman with brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. “Robin?” he barely whispered through his shock. Robin nodded subtly, but didn’t smile. Was he in trouble?

“Luna, this is… an old friend of mine. Brendon, this is my daughter Luna.” Friend, not the father of her child. My, not our. That stung a little bit, but he smiled through the pain.

“Nice to meet you, Luna. And nice to see you again, Bir– I mean, Ms. Ross. C-come in!” he chuckled awkwardly and sniffled as he opened the door more and let them inside. “I wasn’t expecting visitors, so it’s a little messy.” 

For that, the “Understatement of the Year” award goes to... BRENDON URIE! The person who also was nominated for the “Shittiest Dad of the Year” award ten years in a row, coming in second behind his own father! Give him a round of applause, but make it degrading. 

Robin gasped at how messy the house was. “What have you been up to? Preparing for renovation?” she tried to joke. 

Brendon laughed quietly. “If only I could plow through this place with a wrecking ball,” he waited a bit to add quietly, “with me still inside it. Waiting to die. Because I’m worthless.” He stared at the floor for a few awkward seconds, knowing that Robin was staring at him. Luna was still speechless about the size of the house. 

The ten year old tugged at the sleeve of Brendon’s sweater. “What’s the square footage?” she asked.

Robin blushed. “Luna!” she turned to Brendon. “I’m sorry about that. She always asks this question whenever we visit someone. Do you know if there’s anything Luna can do? Maybe a sketch pad or a TV?” 

Brendon chuckled. “Oh, it’s alright.” He knelt down to whisper to Luna, “The house is 1,935 square feet. I have two dogs that could use some love, so maybe you could check them out. They’re outside by the pool. Dog toys and tug of war ropes are in a crate by the shed. The brown and white one is Bogart, and the black and white one is Penny. Have fun.”

He watched as Luna ran off and into the backyard. “Isn’t she something?” he said softly before facing reality again. “I-I’m so sorry I left you. I’m so sorry I left her. I’m sorry for everything. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He broke down into tears, hiding his eyes with his sweater sleeve. “I’m such a bad father and a bad friend...” 

Robin sighed. “Brendon. It’s seriously fine. I’m sorry for not talking to you until now. I just heard one of the songs off your new record and–”

Luna walked back in at that moment. “Hey, Dad, are you sure that Bogart’s fixed? If not, you might have a problem.” 

Brendon nearly fell over. “H-how do you know I’m your dad? Did Robin tell you yet?” He glanced at Robin, who has the same look of shock. 

Luna rolled her eyes. “You look exactly like me, and Mom has been making eyes at you since we got here.” She walked forward and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You even smell like me,” she whispered. 

Brendon couldn’t believe anything. Luna was seriously casual with this? She didn’t inherit Brendon or Robin’s anxiety? Maybe the shock was still setting in and the anger would unleash in a few days. The least he could do is attempt to mitigate it. “Luna, Robin... I’m sorry.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM  
> \- marilynmansonfuckme

Robin looked at Brendon and saw a broken shell of the confident young boy she had fallen in love with years ago. She had never considered the possibility that his life had been ruined just as much as hers by all this. She didn’t want to admit it, but sometimes if you don’t want to admit something, it means you have to. That night, after Luna had fallen asleep on the couch with Pennylane wrapped in her arms, Robin sat outside with Brendon to have a conversation. The pool water lit up with the underwater lights, giving a bluish hue to its surroundings. Brendon seemed to be in a trance as he stared at it. 

Robin tried to create conversation. “Do you come out here a lot?” she asked. 

Brendon didn’t respond at first. But in a few seconds, he shot back up and gave Robin his attention. “Oh! Uh... yeah. I come out here a lot. Sometimes I jump off of that roof into the pool.” He pointed to the roof of a small music studio. “I can do flips.” 

“Have you ever gotten hurt?” 

Brendon shook his head. “I have played Minecraft many times, and water doesn’t give you fall damage.” He turned to Robin with a smirk on his face. Robin laughed and sighed. 

“You’re such a dork, Brendon. You know, Luna acts more and more like you each day,” she reached out to put her hand on top of Brendon’s. Platonically, of course. Brendon gave her a look. 

“I really hope she doesn’t turn out like me,” he said, “First my father turns out as a jerk, then I turn out like my father, and the more that I think about it it seems like Luna would be better off without me. She’s amazing and funny, but if she ever falls in love...” his voice trailed off. After a bit of silence he added, “I wish I could just have another shot at this whole _dad_ thing. I feel like I would’ve been good at it if I tried.” 

Robin sighed again. “I wish you could have another shot, too. Seeing your lifestyle, I really think we took a wrong turn. No offense.” 

Brendon waved his hand dismissively. “None taken. Do you think Luna likes me? She seemed very happy to see me.” 

Robin nodded. “It’s hard to tell what she’s thinking these days. I’m afraid that she inherited the worst thing about both of us: fake happiness. There’s no way that she’s not depressed or mad. First, I tell her that we’re going on a trip for no reason. Next, we show up at a fancy house. Next, we see that a playboy celebrity is living like a homeless frat boy. Finally, she learns that this homeless frat boy is her father. There’s no way that this is normal for her.” 

Brendon agreed with her. There was a lot of tension between them right then, but it wasn’t the right type. They weren’t going to fight, they weren’t going to kiss, and they weren’t going to confess deep romantic feelings because there were none. There was only fear. The fear of falling apart. But why should they be afraid of falling apart if they were never put back together? If they can still be broken, there’s still something to hold onto. 

But sometimes you have to take what you have, grip it by the throat, and save every morsel of life to use as your own. You can’t waste water in the desert even if you pour it out, since the ground would get moisture and help support that tiny plant that started growing in the cracks. Robin had to give Brendon a second chance, just to see what he has left. 

“Tell you what, Brendon,” she began, “Since you need help and clearly refuse to look for it, I’m willing to take you back home to Nevada and have you live with me and my daughter.” Once again, Brendon noticed how Luna wasn’t his daughter, but that feeling didn’t last because he was so surprised. A second chance? Robin was being too nice to him. 

“H-How long?” he asked, “Three weeks? A month?” 

Robin gave him a worried glance. “I’m not letting you go until you get better, Brendon. Even if it takes years.” 

Brendon exhaled softly. “I don’t deserve this,” he said, “I’m a deadbeat dad and it can only get worse if Luna’s exposed to it. Just leave me here.”

“Brendon, I don’t think you get the point of why I’m helping you. It’s because you’re saying things like that. Earlier today you said something borderline suicidal about home renovation, and I can’t just leave while knowing that you might attempt it.”

“And how do you think that having a suicidal person around the house will affect your daughter?” he argued, “I’m fine where I am! If you’re giving me a second shot at things, then I’d gladly accept your offer. But if you’re trying to get me to be happy, then maybe I should just get killed to start with!”

Robin gasped, seeing how Brendon slams his hand over his mouth as soon as he said it. He was just as surprised as she was, but there were more tears in his eyes. “Please don’t take me to the hospital,” he whispered, “I’ll do anything. Just don’t make me go to the hospital.” 

Robin stood up out of her chair and pulled Brendon up to hug him. She let him cry into her shoulder, whispering apologies and sobbing hard. “There’s only one thing you can do right now,” she said, “And that’s to go pack your bags.” 

The next day, Robin and Brendon explained what was happening to Luna. “You don’t have to call me Dad,” Brendon said, “Because I know that you don’t want to. I’m just staying with you guys in your basement because I don’t like myself and I also want to have a chance to show you I’m not a bad person.” 

Luna nodded, then held up Bogart in her arms. “Can the dogs come?” She kissed the Jack Russel Terrier on top of his head. She fell in love with Brendon’s dogs immediately. Brendon looked to Robin, who nodded. 

“We have room for dogs,” she confirmed. Luna gave Brendon a high five, which actually did a good thing to his self esteem. Maybe he was meant to be a dad. 

Robin, although she felt bad for him now, couldn’t help but remember the playboy Brendon had once been. “This is just as friends, though. You can stay in our basement, and there will be nothing romantic or sexual between us, okay?”

Brendon felt slightly disappointed, but not surprised. He wouldn’t have trusted him either, if he were in her shoes. “Y-yeah, of course. Th-thank you, Robin.”

Luna winced. She felt that her mom was being a bit too harsh with Brendon. He had fucked up, yeah, but he had been twenty at the time, and even Luna, a ten-year-old, knew from TV and movies that twenty-year-olds weren’t often very mature. Still, she didn’t want to tell her mom what to do. Instead, she just glanced sympathetically at her dad. She would make things better for him. She had to.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM  
> \- marilynmansonfuckme

**Eight months prior to storyline**

Brendon had been considering visiting his father for quite some time by now. He wanted to know so many things; the reason his father left, what he would’ve done differently, and how he turned out in the end. He talked to Pete about it on the phone one night as he got ready for bed. 

“I just don’t know what to do,” he said as he paced across the carpet. “I want to see him and have a conversation, but he might not recognize me, much less want to talk to me. If I saw my own child, I would feel horrible. I would feel like such a deadbeat father.” 

Pete cleared his throat. “No offense Brendon, but you _are_ a deadbeat father. And if your biological child just walked up to you one day, it would probably be for the same reason as you. She would want answers. You would give your child answers, right? Try to make her hate you less?” 

Brendon sighed and stared at the dogs on his bed. They both looked sad. _Yeah, I know_ , he thought, _I’m sad too._ He stroked their ears affectionately, then answered Pete’s question. “She’d be ten, so maybe not all the answers. I’d give her the basic ones. I’d tell her I panicked and ran away. None of it was her fault or even Robin’s fault. I was young and stupid, but that’s still not an excuse. I–“ 

Pete broke him off. “Brendon, it’s late. You need to get some sleep. You’ve told me all these things a million times.” 

Brendon bit his lip. “And I mean it more every single time.” 

Pete sighed, “Then do something about it, Brendon. Good night.” He hung up, leaving Brendon in silence with the dial tone. Brendon noticed there were tears in his eyes, having a slight idea of where they came from. He opened up the sheets and climbed into bed, laying on his face so the tears would automatically catch into the pillowcase. His dogs swarmed him to lick his salty tears, but he just snatched them and hugged them to his chest. 

He had to talk to his dad. There was no way around it. 

* * *

Pete, however sick of Brendon’s ranting he was, helped the man find his father’s address. Why address? Because people in this story like to show up to houses unannounced. Fuck phone numbers, right? 

Brendon’s dad lived relatively close, within a 100 mile radius. Brendon was able to drive himself there, but Pete came along in the passenger seat, just for support. “So Brendon,” he said, “Have you been taking care of yourself lately?” 

Brendon shifted uncomfortably. “I... uh... sort of? I stopped smoking, so I’d say I took care of myself there.” 

“What about the day-to-day stuff? Brushing teeth, wearing fresh clothes, showering, etc. Have you been doing that?” He turned off the radio and looked at Brendon. Brendon avoided eye contact. 

Under his breath he mumbled, “I did it this morning.” 

“What about last week?” 

No response. 

“Brendon? Have you been taking care of yourself? Answer me.” Pete’s voice was more urgent.

Brendon stared straight ahead, then barely whispered, “No. No I am not. Why do you care?” 

Pete sighed frustratedly. “Stop the car. Pull over, stop the car. We’re going to the mental hospital,” he commanded, “Do it, Brendon. We’re in the middle of nowhere.” 

Brendon pulled over, but didn’t get out. “You can’t make me go to the hospital. You can’t. I don’t consent to it.” He gave Pete an intense glare. “I’m going to visit my father to get answers. Maybe he’ll change my mind about this whole suicide thing.” 

Pete snapped at him, “You’re suicidal?! You feel the need to die, but you don’t want help?” 

Brendon felt attacked, but masked it again. _Stay calm_ , he thought. “If I were to not kill myself, wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of killing myself? You really don’t know what I have in mind, do you? I want to die because I’m just another fucked up dad who can’t do his job. If I visit another fucked up dad who can’t do his job, then maybe I won’t feel so alone anymore. Don’t take me to the hospital, Pete. I’ll turn myself around, I swear.” 

Pete stayed quiet for a minute. Brendon could hear him thinking, though. He looked at Brendon, then at the sky, then at Brendon again. “I don’t understand,” he said flatly, “I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to be alive. Look around this place. We are in the middle of nowhere, and there’s nothing but dirt for a while, but look at the clouds. There are no clouds in heaven because you’re above them. Also, you would be giving up your chance to meet your daughter. Isn’t that what you want most in life? To meet her? If it’s not that, then you would’ve talked about something else during all your vent sessions.” 

Brendon looked at his friend. “Please don’t talk, Pete,” he whispered, “You’re making me feel things. Let’s just drive to my dad’s house now.” 

Pete sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt. He moved so that he could lean over and hug Brendon. “It’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to feel like you fucked up and can’t go back. What matters is that you _can_ go back. It’s why you’re here right now.” 

Brendon sniffled and got out of the car. “Can you drive the rest of the way?” he asked through tears, “I can’t do this.” 

Pete smiled. “It’s my job, right? To take over when your boat capsizes? Humans are pack animals, Brendon. You can’t do this alone.” 

* * *

Pete came with Brendon up to the door. He held onto Brendon’s shaking hand and whispered encouragement in his ear. “He probably feels like you, Brendon. Don’t worry about it. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

Brendon smiles weakly and nodded nervously. “I’m going to do this,” he whispered. 

Pete whispered back, “You’re going to do this.” 

“I’m meeting my dad.” 

“Yes you are.” 

“And you’re right here.” 

“Yes I am. Ring the doorbell, Brendon.” Pete felt like he was talking to a child, but then again he couldn’t even imagine what Brendon was going through. He held on tight to Brendon’s hand as the singer reached up and rang the doorbell. Pete reached up with his other arm to cling to Brendon’s bicep, still whispering happy words. 

An older man answered the door, but he looked like old Brendon. Old Brendon who got way too obsessed with Family Feud. “The sign says no soli– B-Brendon?” he stopped dead in his tracks and just stared. Brendon didn’t smile or frown, but also stared. 

“H-Hi... Dad,” he chuckled softly, “I need to talk to you.” 

Mr. Urie nodded hesitantly. “Okay. Maybe you can introduce me to your... um... _friend_... once we get comfortable.” He eyed Pete suspiciously. Pete smiled and uttered a quick greeting. Brendon turned his head to lean his forehead against Pete’s. 

“Can you come in with me?” he murmured, “I still need you.” Pete nodded and continued to hold his hand as Mr. Urie opened the door wider and led them inside. 

“Can I offer you two a drink?” the old man asked. 

Brendon lit up and started to say yes when Pete chuckled and said, “Brendon doesn’t drink, sir.” Brendon elbowed him in the ribs gently, but he kept talking. “Just water will be fine.” 

Brendon whispered to him, “I’d kill you if you weren’t such a good person.” 

Pete and Brendon sat across from Mr. Urie in the living room. Random things littered the ground and the place smelled like old beer and fish. There were stains on the ceiling and the furniture was torn. Brendon inched closer to Pete. He did not feel safe here. He knew his own house was a wreck, but it was still fixable without tearing down all the walls and calling the camera crew for “Hoarders.” 

“So what brings you and your _partner_ here?” Mr. Urie asks. 

Brendon rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you ever feel like you messed up when you left mom? Like you would do anything just to see her again or apologize or just get a second shot?” 

Mr. Urie didn’t give an answer. “Brendon, what did you do?” he asked sternly. 

Brendon spilled his guts. “Ten years ago I impregnated the former guitarist of my band. I panicked and told her to run away and never come back. I regretted it almost instantly, but now the only thing I want is a family. I put on such a cold, dark personality just to protect my broken feelings. I need help.” 

Brendon’s dad stared at him. “I should’ve known,” he said, “I should’ve known that this would have consequences. I thought that my absence had turned you gay but apparently it was worse. You can’t head down the same road as me any further. Have you been taking care of yourself?” 

Brendon avoided eye contact. Pete can’t take over now. This is his own problem. “I have not. I am in a rough spot, but that’s why I have Pete.” He looked at Pete, who nodded assuringly. “Pete’s not my boyfriend, but he serves the same purpose. Minus the kissing and the sex, of course.” He and Pete chuckled awkwardly. 

Mr. Urie didn’t laugh. “Don’t joke about homosexuality, Brendon. It’s a serious issue in this world. Secondly, you need to find this woman that you have wronged. You need to tell her you’re sorry. You need to man up and become a father, since no one in this world should ever end up like me. Especially not my own son. Take that small sliver of masculinity that you have left, and use it before it dies. You have the potential to be a father, and the bloodline will _not_ end with you. I kept it going when I very well couldn’t have, and that means I’m trusting you with it. There will be grandchildren.” 

Brendon couldn’t believe he was being insulted like this. Masculinity? He was pretty secure with his masculinity. He just needed to know that he wasn’t alone in this feeling of hopelessness, and he’d been taught that as soon as he walked in the door. All this trouble for one disappointing speech from his father? What the fuck? 

Brendon stood up off the couch and took Pete with him. “I have learned everything I need,” he informed his father, “But I very well could’ve stopped as soon as I saw the condition of your house. I will never be you, I will never get _close_ to being you. I can’t do that to myself. I’m going to find my daughter, and I am going to apologize properly. I’m not going to be homophobic, I’m not going to criticize her womanhood. I’m just going to talk to her. And you know what? I’m glad that you were absent. The word deadbeat was _created_ for you. I’m sorry that you didn’t have someone like Pete. Or did you? Either way, you would’ve thrown him away, because even _knowing_ what a guy is seems kind of gay to me. I’m done. I’m done with all this shit.” 

Pete just stood and watched Brendon scream at his father. He knew that closure is more than normal, but something about this level of venting was exactly the type of closure that Brendon wanted. 

“Oh, and if you want grandchildren?” Brendon hissed, “Don’t count on it. I hate you. I hate you with everything I have for so many reasons, and I’d rather tell my daughter that her grandfather had died than have to admit that he’s still alive, hiding out in a moldy beer cave like the white trash he is!” He was panting and red in the face. He’s had to say these things for 32 years, and it just feels amazing now that it gets released. Pete was smiling disbelievingly at him, then gave him a nod a smile permission to drop the final bomb. 

Brendon walked to the door, then called out before he left, “I hope this is what you wanted, _Boyd_!” 


	5. the chapter that makes Treaple think about a John Mulaney joke

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM  
> \- marilynmansonfuckme

Robin smiled softly as she parked the car in the driveway and unbuckled her seatbelt. “We’re here, Brendon. My house.”

Brendon snapped out of his thoughts (mostly about what he’d say to Pete on the phone tonight) to look at a pretty little blue house with a few bushes out front. It was like looking into a storybook. “O-oh! It looks nice. Your boyfriend must love living here,” he chuckled awkwardly. “Or girlfriend. I don’t assume.” 

Robin blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend, silly. You were my last one. A-And my first one.” She blushed. “A lot of men don’t want to date a single mother.” Brendon frowned, but Robin forced another smile. “Wanna see a tour? It’s not much, but there are sadder sights in life. Did you know that Nebraska’s state landmark is a rock? 

Luna watched from behind, not stopping the thought from crossing her mind. _Damn, this is uncomfortable_. She held Penny and Bo in her arms securely, excited to have a dog. “You’re my only friends,” she cooed playfully to the dogs, “Yes you are! Yes you are!” 

Robin let Brendon into the house and helped him carry the luggage downstairs. Brendon’s new home was a small basement room, with almost no decorations or furniture. “It’s not much, but you know what they say!” she smiled, “Blank spaces are opportunities! Do you want to see the upstairs, just for fun?”

Brendon nodded timidly, and the three of them walked upstairs. “This is my room,” Robin announced proudly. The room had pretty floral wallpaper and smelled of perfume, with a Beatles poster above the bed. Brendon nodded and commented on how it looked nice (the social cue for _I have now seen it and we can move on_ ) so they walked down a hall and stopped again in front of another room.

Luna gestured to the place. “This is my room,” she explained. The walls were painted electric blue, and toys and clothes were scattered around. Posters from video game magazines lined the walls.

Brendon smiled, “Nice. Did you and Robin paint the room or was it like this when you moved here?” 

Robin chuckled, “I thought she was going to be born a boy, so I painted the room blue during my pregnancy. I was wrong, but at least she likes the color.” She sighed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Then a look of excitement crossed her face, as if she had just remembered something important. “Luna, you can have screen time if you want,” she said to her daughter. Luna grinned and ran to her Xbox. “I wanted to show you a special room. Just us.”, Robin whispered to Brendon, winking. 

Brendon blushed, so Robin jokingly added, “Get your mind out of the gutter.” 

They walked back into Robin’s room, but this time Brendon noticed a small door in the back. Robin motioned for him to follow her.

They went through the door, and… there it all was. Robin’s old guitars. All her old stage outfits, far too small for her now. Brendon’s lavender sweatshirt, the one he had let her keep, the one she had loved because it had always smelled like him. Now, it just smelled like laundry detergent and tears. Crowning it all were five little framed pictures spread evenly on one of the walls.

The first picture was from the first time Robin and Brendon met. They were both eighteen, Robin in a dark red sweatshirt with thickly painted black eyeliner and a dark brown fringe falling in her eyes, Brendon awkward and chubby with unevenly cut dyed-black bangs. Both had the same dazed, excited, lovestruck look on their faces.

The second picture was from the day of the release of A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out. Both Brendon and Robin wore red and black circus-themed makeup on their faces, and they were holding hands. Pete Wentz and his girlfriend stood in the background, looking like the happiest couple in the universe. Now, Brendon grimaced, thinking of how Pete still wasn’t over that breakup. He sighed and shook away that thought, moving on to the next picture.

The third picture was from the Halloween night of 2006. Robin was dressed as an angel. Brendon hadn’t wanted to dress up, but could be seen smiling beside her and holding her hand anyway, always there to support her in anything she wanted to do. She missed those days.

The fourth picture was of Robin and Brendon kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, from their trip to France in 2008. Robin wore a white floral patterned dress, her hair down and curled, and Brendon realized with a jolt that this picture was from the night that they had conceived Luna. A knowing look from Robin told him that she had chosen this picture to put up on the wall for just that reason. His heart sinking, Brendon looked at the last picture.

It was Robin, smiling and holding baby Luna in her arms. Brendon realized that this was the first time he was seeing how his daughter had looked as a baby, ten years later. “I hope she doesn’t think it’s her fault,” he whispered. Robin looked to him with heavy eyes. 

“You should tell her that, then.” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM  
> \- marilynmansonfuckme
> 
> Ayo, it's Treaple. I support Urie in all he's been doing lately. He has a lovely wife and foundation, and I hope he continues with his music. I acknowledge specific things he has done in the past, but I forgive him. I appreciate him for who he is now. People change and sometimes it's hard to realize, but it happens. I think we'll all emerge from this year differently, because pain creates character. If you listen to Brendon's livestreams where he talks about mental health, you will know he has seen a lot of pain. I admire him. I believe everyone has a second chance, and that is part of the theme to this. So... without further ado... read this, goddammit. We worked so hard.

The day after she brought Brendon home, Robin got a call from her older sister, Megan. This was surprising, as they hadn’t talked in months, and even then, it was just a brief hello. “Megan? Hi!”, she said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible. Robin and her sister had a… long history. Ever since they were little, the two sisters had been constantly compared. Megan, two years older than Robin, was prettier (according to most people), got better grades, hadn’t inherited their mother’s anxiety, and was generally more social and well-adapted. This comparison only got worse when Robin ran off to join a band after high school, and even more so when Robin got pregnant outside of marriage and the whole family regarded her as a whore. Robin had even had to attend Megan’s wedding while heavily pregnant and still heartbroken over Brendon. The whole experience had been horrible.

"Haven't seen you in a long time. Could I bring my husband and daughter and visit you?"

Robin frowned. "Uh, if you want, but I'm kind of-" Megan didn't even let her finish. "Great, I'll be out tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> YES I AM AWARE BRENDON IS A VERY VERY SHITTY PERSON! NO BRENDON IN ANY OF MY FANFICTION IS LIKE THIS AT ALL. I COMPLETELY DISOWN IRL BRENDON I HATE HIM  
> \- marilynmansonfuckme


End file.
